I stop running by the pond, winded and heartbroken. All I can do is relive my failures: not listening to my family and getting branded with the death mark, the disastrous conversation with the Wizard, getting all of Grampire’s questions wrong, my blind panic when the raccoon went for my neck. And then I actually showed my teeth to Grampire! I’m reckless and stupid and disrespectful. I don’t deserve Grampire’s (admittedly frustrating) kindness. I lie down by the pond and allow myself to sink into the sadness.

  I can’t do anything right. I’ve tried so hard, all my life, to make things work and it never does. In my pack in Chicago, the elders were always scolding me for being clumsy and making mistakes. Here, my aunts and uncles shun me for my coat color and inability to fit in. Even my existence is wrong; my dad wasn’t married when I was born, and he didn’t chase my mother when she left. Everyone around him gave him grief about it until the day he died. And now I’m messing everything up again. I always knew I had bad luck, but maybe my life, even before the death mark, is a curse.

  Maybe this is the real reason why Uncle Alder won’t let me come back. He doesn’t need a cursed, useless wolf like me in his family.

  I smell Grampire’s scent before I hear her. I should get up and run away, but I don’t have any energy left. The shallow cuts from the raccoon’s teeth and claws are smarting now, and so is my miserable history. I’ll take whatever punishment she gives. If she guts me like a fish for being disrespectful, I deserve it. Hopefully it’s at least quick, because I’ve had enough pain recently to last a lifetime.

  Grampire approaches me slowly. I watch her from the corner of my eye, tense but unmoving. She doesn’t say anything, just lowers herself to the ground. She groans when she plops down.

  “That don’t ever get easier. Damn back.”

  I don’t say anything. I watch her rub her back and wince. She must be in pain, and she still followed me? Now I feel even worse.

  Grampire just sits beside me for a while. I watch her nervously, waiting for the hammer to come down, but she just stares ahead to the pond. The tense anticipation mellows after a few minutes, and I watch the pond too. A frog catches mosquito after mosquito, croaking in triumph. Fireflies flit over the water, lighting up the night with their dance. A beautifully white swan (goose? That’s definitely a goose) drifts across the pond’s still water. Somehow, despite my life falling apart, life goes on.

  “Do you want to know what was in the box?” Grampire asks after a few minutes of silence.

  My ears perk against my will. I’d forgotten about the surprise box after the horrible raccoon fight, but I am curious. “Yeah.”

  “Nothing! Fighting lessons from yours truly is the ultimate reward.” Grampire wheezes out a laugh while I roll my eyes. Despite the bad joke, tension eases from my muscles. If she was truly upset with me, she wouldn’t try to tell a joke. Grampire wipes her eyes and smiles at the pond ahead. “Just kidding. There’s some beef jerky in there.”

  My tail taps against the grass, but I don’t say anything at first. I think about all Grampire’s done for me, all she continues to do, and I feel sick at my behavior. But behind it is true gratitude, and the marvel that the strongest vampire in probably the South is willing to sit beside me.

  “I’m sorry for growling at you.” The words just slip out.

  “It’s alright,” Grampire says. She’s still not looking at me. “I wanted you to.”

  I lift my head in surprise. “You did?”

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  “Not at me, but yeah.” Grampire glances at me and smiles. It’s a gentler one than her perpetual pissed off expression or her mischievous grin. “You’re the most mild-mannered kid I’ve ever met. I wanted to see if you could even get mad.”

  I lower my head to my paws. The left one that’s stained from the curse throbs from the raccoon bite. “I didn’t like being mad. It felt bad.”

  “Maybe, but that rage will save your life one day. Think of it as armor. It protects and insulates you, gets you through what has to be done.” When I don’t say anything, Grampire places a gentle hand on my back. “I know the training is difficult, and frustrating, but it’s necessary. One day, it might not just be a sleepy wizard or an irritated coon. One day, if you don’t practice, you could get hurt bad. I just want you to be safe.”

  My eyes fill with tears again. Grampire is so strange and tough, but she really does care. She hardly knows me, but she’s treating me better than the elders in Chicago and my relatives who hate that I exist. I army crawl to her and lean against her side. She pats my back, but doesn’t say anything. Grampire’s sickly sweet smell fills my nose, but now it’s far more comforting than dangerous. I was disrespectful, but she forgives me. Uncle Alder wouldn’t have tolerated me showing my teeth at him. That thought gives me full body shivers.

  “I panicked when the raccoon went for my neck,” I say aloud.

  “I noticed,” Grampire grunts. “It wouldn’t have killed you. Too small.”

  “It wasn’t that. I just…I was thinking…” I swallow hard. I shouldn’t tell her this. It’s a weakness. Werewolves have to be tough, and not be vulnerable with anyone outside the pack. But she’s being so kind right now, the truth slips out before I can stop it. “It reminded me of my uncle. When he tried to kill me. I…it scared me.”

  Grampire doesn’t say anything at first. She pets my head in long, gentle strokes. I should tell her that this is a little rude because I’m not a human pet, but it reminds me of when I was young, and my dad would sometimes comb my hair before school. I blink tears from my eyes again.

  Grampire finally speaks after a full minute. “I think I saw something during the fight that’ll help. Stand up.”

  I do, unsure. I’m disappointed she doesn’t have advice to stop thinking about Uncle Alder, but it’s okay. Finally saying it out loud helped.

  Grampire struggles to her feet, wincing. “Damn back…anyway, run as fast as you can to the edge of the trees and back.”

  I examine the path before me. It’s anything but clear; it’s choked with piles of junk, rusted metal, and garbage. Still, as I study the terrain, I’m filled with determination. It’s full of obstacles, but I can do it. “Right now?”

  “Right now. Go on.”

  I take a breath and mentally map out the fastest route in my mind. And then I take off, dodging and weaving with liquid speed. I only slow to turn, but then I’m back at full speed, flying over the grass to Grampire. When I skid to stop next to her, she’s smiling.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You’re fast.” Grampire nods, her grin widening. “Fast as hell, actually. I could barely see you coming.”

  Oh, Fern said that too…! Now that I think about it, my muscles twitch and jump, crackling with electricity. I look at my mismatched paws, stunned. With so much going on, I didn’t notice I’d developed a new skill. “I think the death lightning made me faster.”

  “Fuck yeah.” Grampire laughs to the sky. I chuckle along, even though I have no idea what we’re laughing at. When she calms down, Grampire rests her hand on my head. “I’ll change your training routine. Maybe you’ll never be a flesh ripper like me, but this is better. You can’t lose if your opponent can’t hit you.”

  Slowly, my tail starts wagging. Yes…! This could work! I just have to train up my strengths, one of which is being fast. I’ll never overpower an opponent bigger than me, but I can work faster and smarter. Oh, but… “That works if they can’t hit me, but what if I can’t attack them back? How can I win a fight that way?”

  Grampire doesn’t look at me. She’s staring out at the pond, watching the goose swim serene circles in the water. “Well, I’ll be there with you. You said it earlier, right? Werewolves work best in packs.”

  I want to burst into tears. Grampire, the Bonecrusher, the most dangerous vampire in the region, is with me. I don’t have a home, and I don’t know if we can ever remove the death mark, but Grampire is promising she’ll see my uncertain future through with me. I lean against her side and Grampire pets my head again.

  “Ah, don’t get all sentimental. Come on and get inside this house so we can go to bed.” She huffs and starts toward the building. I follow, my tail wagging the whole time.

  “You sure do sleep a lot.”

  “Takes all my energy to deal with whiny brats.” Grampire’s smiling when she says it. If I were human I would be smiling too. We go back to the crumbling hotel, our footsteps perfectly in synch.